Stolen Summer
by MixScarlet
Summary: Harry is home from Hogwarts after his sixth term. His uncle has forced him to take on lawn jobs to "earn his keep" when a mysterious present arrives, followed by an unexpected proposal from Mr. Malfoy.......Rated R for Harry/Draco slash. Please review!
1. The Present

Harry had been at Privet Drive with the Dursley's all summer, it being the summer after his sixth year at Hogwarts, and by far the most horrible yet. Thoughts of his godfather Sirius had long faded from their minds and Harry wondered if the Dursleys even believed he existed anymore-certainly they no longer feared a murderous convict popping in to check on Harry's wellbeing. This fear had been all Harry had relied upon in previous summers to keep the Dursleys civil towards him (they knew he was not allowed to perform magic outside of Hogwarts). His uncle had quickly got the notion into his head that Harry should get a job to earn his keep, and had begun sort of contracting Harry out as a lawn boy to his friends and neighbors. Of course, Harry got to keep none of his earnings but had to hand every penny over to his uncle who kept tabs on the hours he worked to make sure Harry withheld nothing. It was almost July. Harry had been so busy and in a constant state of hunger and exhaustion that he had neither the time nor energy to think of anything remotely magical. The lawn jobs his uncle set up were always with Muggles and he was given strict instructions to keep away from any "funny business-or else." The "or else" usually amounted to an even smaller portion of food or an extra job that week. Even more insulting was the fact that Harry's jobs were going to pay for a particularly expensive stint at a weight-loss resort in France that Dudley was attending. It seemed that every week that passed brought another letter from Dudley asking for some new expensive novelty (which Harry knew would be sat upon and squashed before the next letter came), as well as letters from the head of Dudley's camp complaining about his uncooperative nature and food-pilfering habits. Harry's aunt and uncle merely chuckled at their boy's "naturally mischievous nature." And, adding insult to injury, Harry was still made to tend to the Dursley's own yard in his spare time, which no matter how hard he worked at it, he could no manage to completely rid it of weeds. Aunt Petunia never failed to point out a whole patch of prickly weeds he missed, leading him to wonder if the yard wasn't somewhat enchanted after all. So, on any given morning that summer, Harry could have been viewed lugging his yard tools in Dudley's old red wheelbarrow, up and down Privet Drive. As miserable as this existence was, he found it immensely preferable to being at home with Dudley and the Dursleys all summer, and often he found ways to finish a job early and sneak off somewhere peaceful to have a moments rest or a quick nap. Hedwig was locked in her cage again this summer, and new bars on his windows prevented anything but the occasionally- risked letter to slide through. It was then to his great surprise when , on his way to a job a few houses down, a large eagle owl soared toward him and dropped a small parcel into the dirty wheelbarrow. Looking around to see if anyone had noticed (no one was around), Harry picked up the small parcel; he noticed it was wrapped in gold foil paper and tied with a glimmering black bow. It certainly looked every bit like a present, but who would be sending him a present so far from his birthday, by owl in broad daylight, and so grandly wrapped? Harry decided it was best to wait until he was home to open it, in case its contents were some conspicuous magical item. Burning with curiosity, Harry rushed through his job and practically ran home; he had over an hour before he had to be at his next job. He was exhausted and starving but he bounded past the kitchen (where Aunt Petunia had half a lettuce sandwich and water on the table for him) and upstairs to his bedroom. Hedwig had been asleep under her wing and gave him a one-eyed glare before falling asleep again. Harry pulled the parcel out his jacket and looked at it again. 'Well, nothing left but to open it I suppose. I doubt Voldemort would bother to make a curse look so pretty,' Harry thought. He set the present on his bed and squatted to be eye-level with it, then slowly pulled the black ribbon tied around it. The foil paper fell open and inside lay a rather ordinary-looking black bag and a note on a scrap of parchment. In a flowing script was written:  
  
All summer you thought you'd been alone, Far from friends and far from home. Yet an unlikely friend's been at your side, Watching you on Privet Drive. I've suffered as you've suffered here, And I bring you something to hold dear. Reach inside the black bag's depths To get the treat you like the best.  
  
There the script ended and Harry saw nothing written on the back; the note was unsigned. 'An unlikely friend!' Harry thought that spying on him didn't sound too friendly yet it was somehow comforting that someone else was here, watching over him in this entirely un-magical place. Harry's attention now turned to the bag, which he picked up and examined with interest. Following the poem's directions he reached inside the bag. A strange sensation surrounded his hand as something materialized in it. He pulled his hand back out of the bag and saw a flagon of pumpkin juice. 'Perfect!,' Harry thought as he emptied the flask's contents thirstily. He reached back into the bag, again felt something materialize, and his hand came back holding a whole plate of food-spice ham with caramel sauce, Yorkshire puddings, fluffy salmon mousse, and sweet potato muffins! A veritable feast to the starved Harry Potter, who could barely keep from choking as he quickly downed the delicacies. Whoever had sent this present was truly a friend indeed. He had heard of bottomless bags before but they were usually extremely expensive as it took a very powerful wizard to perform such a lasting enchantment. Harry smiled as he became drowsy with fullness, and contentedly lay back on his bed for a nap, feeling happier that he had all summer. 


	2. The Man in the Mirror

Several weeks had passed by since the arrival of the present, and Harry was finally eating well on Privet Drive. He still took the food that his aunt and uncle gave him (and usually threw it in the backyard or in the garbage), while thrusting his hands into the bag to get something new and delicious. He'd never been disappointed once. Harry often thought how he wished he knew who sent it, and spent many hours looking at the note, trying it for invisible ink or some other enchantment. He'd also noticed a strange side effect of the enchanted food (well, he wasn't entirely sure it was the cause). Harry was always extremely horny, and didn't really know why.  
  
On a particularly uneventful day, Harry was trying to catch a nap in between two jobs. He was awakened shortly after by furious banging on his door. Sleepily, Harry got up and stumbled towards the door, but was immediately aware that something very embarrassing had happened again-he'd had what Muggles called a "wet dream." His pants were completely wet and he was still sporting quite a boner. But the knocking did not desist so Harry was forced to open the door a crack and peer around it, his pants safely out of view. It was his aunt.  
  
"Mr. Collard called and said he would not be needing you this afternoon after all, its raining and there's no sense heaving your clumsy self all over a muddy yard. They do want you to come back first thing tomorrow morning, boy, and see that you do!" Petunia gave him a hard look, as if he was already plotting to ditch. She turned away muttering to herself about how worthless Harry was and seeming thoroughly put-out that he would be around the house tonight.  
  
After her footsteps could no longer be heard, Harry slipped down the hall and into Dudley's bathroom (he was forced to use the small downstairs bathroom when Dudley was in town). He slipped out of his clothes, looked into the mirror, and was completely surprised by who he saw. The young man peering back at Harry was tall and muscular, with broad shoulders and a lithe frame. If not for the telltale scar on the boy's forehead, Harry never would have known he was looking at his own reflection in the mirror. My, but he had changed! The hard labor under the sun had left Harry bronzed and very muscular, his chest and abs now well-defined, his arms and legs strong and sinewy. He was at least three inches taller than he remembered. And any flab that he might have had before the summer had certainly melted away, leaving a body he hardly recognized as his own.  
  
As Harry surveyed his naked body, he was quickly reminded why he had come in here as his eyes traveled downwards. Blushing, Harry turned on the shower and stepped in, the hot water washing his shame away. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the heat flowing down his body, between muscles, as he soaped himself all over. But touching his body, even innocently, had the opposite effect he'd hoped the shower would have. 'God, why am I feeling so horny,' Harry thought as he looked down as his rock-hard cock. Not being able to help himself, he began running his hands up and down his chest and across his hard nipples, pinching them slightly and enjoying the mixture of pain and pleasure it brought. Unable to keep his hands off his cock any longer, he grabbed it and began stroking it firmly. Softly moaning, Harry's body washed with pleasure-he couldn't remember masturbation ever feeling this great before. He pulled back the shower curtain slightly to get another view of his body, and watched his reflection as he quickly brought himself to orgasm; head tilted back, his mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. As the intensity ebbed away, Harry leaned back into the shower and closed his eyes as a feeling of supreme relaxation passed over him.  
  
Just then, more furious banging on the door. "Harry! Harry!" shouted Aunt Petunia's voice through the door, "Get out of there and stop using up all the hot water you worthless boy!"  
  
'Damn it!" Harry thought, 'She even has to ruin this.'  
  
"Ok Aunt Petunia, I'm getting out right now." Harry turned off the shower and grabbed a towel. Petunia seemed satisfied and stomped back downstairs to see if she'd missed anything interesting she could have spied her neighbors doing. Harry quickly dried off, and towel-clad slipped back into his bedroom. Opening his closet he saw a pitiful array of Dudley's old clothes, many, many sizes too big and too short. He picked out a pair of grey sweatpants (stretchy, so fit better than any other pants from Dudley), and a cavernous tee-shirt. He was looking forward to just relaxing tonight, he hadn't got a night to himself since he came back from school.  
  
"Harry, Harry! Get down here, boy!" Aunt Petunia's voiced screeched up from downstairs. Harry inwardly groaned. He should have known better than to suppose that he might have even one idle moment in this household. Aunt Petunia screamed up to him again, and he wearily made his way downstairs. She looked cross, even crosser than usual.  
  
"Harry," she began impatiently,"your uncle and I have a very, very important dinner guest tonight. Your uncle is of course friends with many influential people, and tonight we are having the owner of London Bank and his son as our guests. Now normally we would just lock you in your room and be done with you." She gave him a piercing look. "But they are apparently looking for a full-time gardener for the entire summer."  
  
Harry both panicked and rejoiced. So, the Dursleys thought they could just hire him out, kick him out of the only home he's known, and be rid of him! But on the other hand, he wouldn't have to put up with the humiliating treatment from the Dursleys. But perhaps these people weren't any better; they were, after all, friends with his uncle. Harry was torn, it was looking more and more like a lose-lose situation. Aunt Petunia seemed to sense his turmoil, and her voice became commanding and shrill.  
  
"Now we'll have no trouble from you, boy! Remember who took you in when no one else would have you! If you mess this up, and you know what I mean, your uncle and I could make your life here very difficult." Harry couldn't imagine how they could make it any more unpleasant, but he really didn't like her tone. Whoever this person was, their friendship obviously meant the world to the Dursleys. He had choice but to play along.  
  
"Now," Petunia sighed, satisfied at Harry's defeat, "go upstairs and change into something presentable. Wear that nice suit that your uncle and I bought you for Great Aunt Betty's funeral. The guests will be here in 30 minutes." She pointed back upstairs, and glared at Harry until he sighed, shrugged, and turned around to go back upstairs. 


	3. The Dinner Guest's Proposal

Back upstairs, Harry fumed with anger and humiliation. 'Obviously I'm no more than property to them, some sort of unwanted item they're ready to unload onto anybody,' he thought angrily and he pulled off his shirt and pants. He yanked open his closet and made a face of disgust as he pulled out the cheap and hideous suit (at least it wasn't a hand-me-down from Dudley, though). 'Well, what choice have I got,' Harry sighed, 'and who knows, perhaps these people will be nice.' With that thought, a slightly cheered Harry Potter pulled on the ugly suit, made an unsuccessful attempt to comb his unruly hair, and went to brush his teeth in the bathroom. He looked briefly in the mirror again, 'Hey, I don't really look half bad, even in this disgusting suit." As poorly tailored as it was, it could not hide the fact that a slender, muscular body lied underneath it. Harry shrugged and walked back downstairs, hopeful. Harry had almost reached the bottom of the stairs when he heard the door open and voices making overly- polite and forced greetings. 'Well its now or never I suppose..' And with that, Harry took a deep breath and walked into the living room.  
  
He had only taken a couple steps when Harry heard a voice that made him freeze in his tracks.  
  
"Well, Dursley, I must say that this is quite a house you have.." There was no mistaking it; the voice most definitely belonged to Lucius Malfoy. The heavy sarcasm in his voice was completely lost on his uncle, who was turning pink with pleasure at what he was sure was a heartfelt compliment. 'Oh no,' Harry thought, 'this can't be! And Aunt Petunia said his son was coming as well?? I can't face Draco here, like this, with the Dursleys! Be the Malfoy's gardener?' Harry turned and was trying to quietly sneak back upstairs when his uncle spotted him and walked over quickly to him, grabbing him by the collar. "And where do you think you're going?" he hissed out of earshot of everyone else.  
  
Harry's hear sank. There was no getting out of this, and this was surely to be the most humiliating night of his life. He could just hear the taunts he would have to endure at school from Draco..  
  
Harry's uncle half-dragged him into the living room where Petunia was fawning over Lucius and Draco, offering them tea and all assortments of cookies and treats. The Malfoys were impeccably and stylishly dressed in Muggle clothes, especially Draco, whose black silk suit seemed exquisitely tailored to his body and fell around him like a soft shadow. Draco was lazily lounged, catlike and looking bored, on the sofa, while his father was sitting in an armchair, looking strained as he endured Mrs. Dursley's endless prattle about the weather and the doings of her neighbors. As Harry entered the room, he could feel his face burning red and muttered a barely- audible "Good evening" to the Malfoys when introduced by his uncle. Feeling daring, Harry glanced up at Draco defiantly, expecting to meet a gaze of extreme loathing, but was surprised by the look of mild, benign amusement on Draco's face. Puzzled, Harry faltered at what to do or say. Was Draco trying to disarm him?  
  
"Well don't just stand there staring at respectable folk, boy, go get the cake and serve our guests," growled his uncle. Aunt Petunia glared at Harry as he stalked miserably to the kitchen, grateful to be excused from the awkward situation. Suddenly, Harry heard Draco lazily purr, "You know, I'd like to make myself useful too, I'll help Harry with the cake." Aunt Petunia of course protested over and over, but finally gave in, with a "What a well-bred and well-mattered young man! So polite and courteous! Why nothing at all like our Harry..." The rest was cut off by the loud coughing of Mr. Dursley, who was obviously trying to silence his wife's bad-mouthing Harry-they wanted to get rid of him this summer, remember?  
  
Harry was getting plates from the cabinet when he heard Draco's lazy drawl behind him. "Well, well, Potter, what a lovely suit. Do tell me where you got it!" Harry whirled around, ready to do verbal battle with Draco, but was again disarmed by the lack of malicious hatred in his voice or eyes. Draco had a sly smile on his face, like he knew a secret.  
  
"Draco, I don't know what you're playing at, showing up here at the Dursley's, but you're not welcome. If you came here to see my miserable life and to taunt me, just know that I don't care and nothing you can do or say will faze me." Draco seemed unaffected by Harry's harsh words, and moved closer, cornering Harry at the edge of the countertops, and leaning in very close to him.  
  
"Tsk, tsk, Potter," Draco purred in Harry's ear, "Is that any way to treat your savior?" Draco brushed a stray strand of hair out of Harry's eyes, Harry blushing as Draco's cool, soft skin brushed his face.  
  
Harry faltered, not used to being so close to someone. "Sa-savior? What are you talking about Malfoy?" He was at a complete loss for what to do. What was going on??  
  
Malfoy looked Harry in the eyes and smiled, still leaning in very close. "I've come to take you away from here, Potter. These Muggles are wholly unbearable and I can't endure allowing this treatment any longer." A momentary look of anger flitted over Malfoy's serene face. "That's why you're coming to live with me for the rest of the summer," Draco whispered.  
  
"I most certainly will not, Malfoy! What makes you think that I'd trust you after how you've treated me for years at Hogwarts and-," Harry was silenced as Draco put his finger to Harry's lips.  
  
"Shhhhh! Do you want those Muggles to hear you talk of Hogwarts? Be reasonable, Potter," as if Harry were a raving lunatic needing to be placated, "would you really rather spend the rest of your time here," Draco looked around with disgust. "Or spend it with a friend, even if it is an unlikely one." Harry stated, open-mouthed at Draco, as he realized what all this meant. 'An unlikely friend!' Draco was the one who sent the black bag, but why?  
  
But before Harry could ask Draco anything else, Aunt Petunia breezed into the kitchen. "Oh I was wondering what was taking so long, you two! Boys will be boys I suppose!" Her voice was sickeningly sweet, but she had a hard look for Harry as she picked up the cake and walked back into the living room. Draco reached past Harry for the plates and forks, and smiling at Harry over his shoulder, followed Petunia back into the living room. Harry was left all alone for a moment, stunned, and then shook his head and walked back into the living room, too.  
  
Lucius looked like someone was performing the Crucius Curse upon him. Mr. Dursley was raving on and on about the drill business, as Petunia interjected now and then with a "Yes that's right dear!" She was beginning to serve the cake, when Draco suddenly spoke.  
  
"So, Mr. Dursley, as my father mentioned to you earlier today, we are in need of a full-time gardener, and have heard excellent things about your Harry!"  
  
Harry's uncle shot him a look like nothing that anybody could possibly say would be positive concerning Harry. Harry merely shrunk down in his chair, wishing to be very very small. Draco continued, "We would need him for the whole summer, beginning immediately. And of course we would pay you, oh, say a thousand pounds a week- yes, does that sound fair?" The Dursley's mouths fell open at this. Harry couldn't imagine paying that much for a gardener, what was Draco up to?  
  
Mr. Dursley stammered his approval, and quickly stated that Harry would be happy to go anytime the Malfoy's wanted him. Draco shook his head, "I'm afraid I have to hear it from Harry's mouth that he wants to come." He turned to Harry and softly said, "Well Harry, what do you say?" The Dursley were shooting Harry daggers like he'd never seen. Every shred of common sense was telling Harry that Draco was not to be trusted, that he was an enemy, not a friend. He should say no, no, no!  
  
"Yes." Harry stood utterly surprised with his answer, and could hardly believe what he'd just said. The Dursleys were looking extremely relieved. Harry was stammering, no knowing whether to take back what he said, or just shut up before something worse came out.  
  
Lucius arose and said," Well, its settled then. Harry go pack your things right away and we'll be off." Harry was trembling with uncertainty, but managed to make it up the stairs and into his bedroom. 


	4. Transfiguration

Up in the safety of his room, Harry was awash with confusion. 'I can't believe it, I just can't believe it,' he kept saying to himself over and over again as he paced back and forth across the floor. Hedwig seemed to sense his distress, and began hooting softly and looking around suspiciously. Harry walked over to Hedwig's cage and scratched her head through the bars. 'Well, old girl, looks like we're out of the frying pan into the fire, eh?' Harry whispered into Hedwig's ear. Just then Harry heard fast heavy footsteps up the stairs, and the door to his room flew open. His uncle was panting and looking very red in the face. Mr. Dursley looked around and looked peeved to find Harry not already packed.  
  
"Didn't you hear what Mr. Malfoy said, boy? Get your things together at once and get yourself downstairs!" His uncle was trying to be stern, but he was happily rubbing his huge paws and had a greedy glint in his eye. "But I came to tell you that if you let out so much as a peep about who-know- what." At this, Mr. Dursley dragged his finger across his throat with an ominous grunt. Harry nodded half-heartedly, and made a strained effort to start packing. His uncle turned around and walked back downstairs, jauntily humming a tune, thoroughly convinced that two birds had been killed with one stone.  
  
Harry quickly packed up the few articles of clothing he deemed worth taking, as well as the few magical items he had stashed beneath the loose board in the floor (including the bag). He was suddenly very glad that the Weasleys had offered to keep all his school supplies at their house for the summer, he would have hated to leave them either the Dursley's or the Malfoy's house unattended. He closed his trunk, grabbed Hedwig's cage, and clumsily began to lumber back downstairs, luggage in tow.  
  
Aunt Petunia was trying to convince the Malfoys they should stay for dinner, but Lucius was shaking his head and muttering something about having an early meeting tomorrow. Petunia looked severely disappointed, but it was obvious the she considered the evening to be a tremendous success. When Harry reached the bottom of the stairs, all eyes turned on him  
  
"You're not taking that ridiculous owl to the Malfoy's house, boy! WE may put up with your wild beasts but we can't expect an employer to, now can we?" Harry's uncle stated sternly. But Harry just backed away. "You think I'm leaving her here? No way! If Hedwig doesn't go I don't go!" Hedwig hooted in approval.  
  
Draco walked up to Harry and tried to take Hedwig's cage gently. "Don't worry Harry; you can bring your owl." Harry looked somewhat more relaxed and let him take the cage. Lucius walked over to the door and gestured to the boys to do the same. He took off his hat and bowed low. "Thank you for a wonderful evening, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. Don't worry, we'll take good care of Harry," Lucius drawled. The Dursley's looked like they couldn't care less about Harry's treatment, and tried to give him advice to take a "firm hand" with the boy. Lucius nodded, bowed again, and then headed for the limo which was parked, idling, outside their house. Harry could only imagine the gloating that his Aunt Petunia would do the next day about having a limo parked in front of HER house. A driver got out and put Harry's things in the car's trunk, and set Hedwig's cage in the back seat where they would sit, then held the door open for Lucius, Draco, and Harry. The three of them got inside the limo, and the driver shut the door, and proceeded to drive the car out into the foggy night.  
  
Harry had never been inside so grand a car, be he could think of nothing at the moment except that he was trapped, trapped and at the mercy of the Malfoy's. But a strange thing began to happen. Lucius was losing his well- groomed, sleek appearance and was gradually looking more and more like a pudgy Neanderthal. Harry stared wide-eyed as Lucius melted away and Crabbe was left in his place.  
  
"Cra-Crrabbe!?!" Harry half-yelled, half-shrieked. Crabbe had been disguised as Lucius all along! 'Makes sense,' Harry thought, 'I couldn't imagine Lucius stooping so low as to accept an invitation at a Muggle's house.' Still, this situation was getting stranger every moment.  
  
"Ahhh, my friend, it seems the jig is up." Malfoy said jovially. Crabbe didn't seem to think that the situation was funny at all, and looked over at Harry with mildly concealed disgust. "Pay up, Malfoy." Crabbed jutted out his ruddy paw, palm up and out waiting for the payment his humiliating disguise deserved. Malfoy smiled and pulled a small bag full of coins from inside his jacket, and plopped it into Crabbe's eager hand. Crabbe greedily opened it, counting it.  
  
Malfoy snarled, "It's all there you oaf!" Crabbe shot Malfoy a look of distrust, but put the bag in his pocket. At this moment, the car stopped. Crabbe looked out the window, and then opened the door.  
  
Crabbe stepped outside, then turned around and stuck his head back inside the car. "You know you're a sick bastard don't you, Malfoy? Because that's what you are." He shot a lecherous look at Harry and laughed, shaking his head. Malfoy glared back, pulled his wand out of his coat and zapped Crabbe in the rear. "Drive on, driver," Malfoy called, chuckling to himself as Crabbe screamed curses at them. He then pointed to the car door and said "Fermio!" and the door slammed shut. Harry looked at Malfoy in disbelief. He obviously had no regard for the law that prohibited them from doing magic outside of Hogwarts. But then, when did Malfoy ever heed the rules?  
  
Malfoy was reclining in the lush leather seat, looking very self-satisfied. "Oh do close your mouth, Potter. You look so much like a flubberworm that it's making me have flashbacks of Hagrid's class." Harry shut his mouth, but his head was spinning. Collecting all his wits, he closed his eyes and said,"Malfoy, do you mind telling me what the HELL IS GOING ON????" 


	5. The Car Ride

The tension in the limo hung like low clouds around the two boys. Harry was looking like a trapped animal; he'd squished himself into a corner, as far from Malfoy as he could get. Malfoy on the other hand looked as nonchalant as ever, that secretive smile still creeping across his face. He rolled his eyes and sighed, "Why do you have to be so dramatic, Potter? I'm not kidnapping you-well not really-I just made Crabbe use that disguise to help me get you away from those despicable Muggles. You should be thanking me right now. How ungrateful!" Draco was smiling broadly, and began to creep across the car seat towards Harry. Harry had no where to go.  
  
"Where are you taking me, Malfoy?"  
  
"To my house of course, you're going to be the gardener of Malfoy Manor, remember?" Draco said grandly, chuckling to himself. Harry didn't seem amused in the slightest.  
  
"If you expect me to mow one blade of grass on your stinking yard then-," Harry began angrily, but was interrupted by Draco. "Fine Potter," Draco sighed, "the truth then? This summer's been utterly and completely boring, and I was.well, that is to say I.well, dammit, Potter I was lonely." Draco ended the sentence, and looked away from Harry, embarrassed.  
  
Harry was dumbfounded; never had Malfoy admitted to anything except utter superiority, never to something as mundane as loneliness. But then, Harry knew something of that, of feeling totally alone, how heartbreaking it was to be different, to have no friends or even a kind word. Harry looked up at Malfoy in a new light; sure, he had practically kidnapped him but here he was making himself vulnerable to Harry, looking at Harry with almost pleading eyes. 'Come to think of it, he hasn't tried to be nasty once since I saw him. Does he really want to be friends? Can I trust him?' Harry thought.  
  
Draco sensed a struggle taking place in Harry, reached out and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry looked at the hand for a moment but didn't flinch. "Listen, Potter.Harry, I mean. I don't really want to take you away against your will. But I'm telling you the truth, that what I want is someone to keep me company this summer, someone other than my loathsome father." A hard look came across Draco's face, as if he were remembering something very unpleasant. "But if you don't want to trust me, of if you truly do hate me, I will take you back to Privet Drive and never bother you again." As an afterthought he added, "You can even keep the bag.as a. souvenir." He smiled weakly.  
  
Harry had never seen this side of Draco, and was touched. Why not let bygones be bygones, if Draco really meant it? Harry looked deep within Draco's eyes, searching for something indicating deception or that this was all an elaborate gag played upon him, but he found nothing. Draco was really being sincere, but there was something else in his face-pain. A deep- seated, ancient pain, a pain he had grown up with and nursed silently. What was it? Could it have something to do with his father?  
  
It was strange and wonderful being this close to someone. Draco seemed to have no qualms invading his personal space, and Harry admitted he liked it. He liked studying Draco's perfect porcelain features, his smooth skin, and expressive emerald eyes, feeling warm breath on his neck. Something about Draco's tragic beauty touched him, and he couldn't help but feel aroused by this warm body so close to his own.  
  
"I'm going out on a limb here, and maybe I will regret it," began Harry slowly, "BUT, I will come with you Draco."  
  
Draco looked both surprised and extremely pleased. "Potter..Harry..well I'm glad you made the sensible decision," he teased, "Actually, I'm so happy I could kiss you!" Immediately he regretted his words, and quickly added "That's just an expression you know..."  
  
Harry looked up at Draco and softly said, "Why don't you do it then?"  
  
Draco looked at Harry with poorly-concealed desire. "Really?" he whispered in Harry's ear, "Is that what you want, Harry?" Harry's voice was rough as he answered, "Yes, kiss me..."  
  
Draco needed no more encouragement, and leaned down to press his lips softly upon Harry's, innocently, gently. He wrapped his arms around Harry's neck as Harry pulled him closer, onto his lap. Harry wanted more than soft, sweet kisses, and opened his mouth to deepen Draco's kiss. Draco hungrily began to explore Harry's warm, wet mouth with his tongue, Harry's tongue answering and returning the caress. Draco ran his hands up Harry's face and tangled his hands in his hair, pulling Harry's head slightly backwards to further control the kiss; Draco plunged his tongue deeper into Harry's throat, wanting to taste his very soul.  
  
Harry had never been touched this way before, and it was heaven. He felt totally out of control; he just wanted Draco to touch him, lick him, use him, and do whatever he wanted as long at this didn't stop. He could feel Draco's hard cock pressed against his stomach, and it was driving him crazy. What did it look like? Was it big or small; was it as wondrously soft as the rest of Draco's skin? What would Draco look like as Harry took his cock into his mouth? These thoughts were making Harry so hard he could hardly stand it, and he moaned softly into Draco's eager mouth. Harry's hands ran down Draco's back and felt under his jacket and shirt to the smooth, cool skin underneath; Draco's back arched at Harry's touch as his hands traced up Draco's back and up to his shoulders, scraping his nails across Draco's skin on the way back down. Draco let out a stifled whimper and said breathlessly, "Harry, Harry...I've wanted you for years but I thought I could never have you. Please forgive my deception-," The rest of his sentence was drowned in Harry's mouth; he couldn't keep away from Draco.  
  
Suddenly the car came to a jolting halt, and Draco was nearly thrown out of Harry's lap. Harry grabbed him before he fell, and Draco stood still, looking into Harry's eyes. Harry tried to pull Draco towards him and kiss him again, but Draco sat up and said, "We're home." Draco pulled himself off an unsatisfied and protesting Harry, and smoothed his clothes and hair to look presentable again.  
  
"The driver will take you through the house to your room, Harry." Draco looked at Harry and smiled, trying to pat down Harry's even more-messy-than- usual hair. "I've got some business to take care of before I can join you." Draco's face suddenly looked very dark, full of anger and hatred. For a moment, Harry thought the old Draco was back, but the look passed. Draco smiled and kissed Harry lightly on the lips. "I won't be long," he said. Before Harry could reply, Draco had opened the door and was heading towards the main entrance of the grandest house-no, castle!-Harry had ever seen. He sat in the car for a moment more, then grabbed Hedwig's cage, and slid out of the car as well. 


	6. Healing Wounds

Harry stood on the plush grass in front of Malfoy Manor, holding Hedwig's cage and feeling more than a little out of place. Surveying the perfectly neat rows of hedges and geometric flower beds, Harry could safely assumed that the Malfoys employed a whole fleet of gardeners. 'I'd probably just mess it all up,' Harry thought, 'Good thing he's not really looking for a gardener. But, I wonder what he is looking for.....'  
  
Harry was brought back to reality by the driver clearing his throat quite loudly.  
  
"Oh, right. Sorry." The driver began walking towards the house, carrying Harry's trunk and motioning Harry to follow him towards a small door, probably the backdoor. 'Good,' Harry thought, 'last thing I want is to get noticed by someone.' The driver heaved open the heavy wooden door and walked inside; Harry followed, trying to calm Hedwig down and keep her from hooting excitedly. The driver led Harry through the labyrinthine maze of hallways and staircases, each one grandly appointed in dark, heavy woods and hung with various old tapestries and paintings. Harry tried to remember the way, but kept getting confused as they passed several rooms that seemed to look alike or circular rooms with doors in all directions which seemed to rotate when Harry wasn't paying close attention. Finally, they mounted a final flight of stairs and turned into the first room on Harry's left. The driver bowed and excused himself to his other duties, merely saying, "Mr. Malfoy asks that you please wait for him here. Feel free to take a nap or unpack." And with a final bow, he turned on his heel and marched back down the stairs and out of sight.  
  
Harry walked into "his" room, and set Hedwig's cage on a low dresser on the side wall. Harry couldn't believe how magnificent a room it was! A huge four-poster mahogany bed with curtains all around it was positioned against one wall and opposite was a huge crackling wood fire. Soft rugs were strewn over the wood floors, and a chandelier magically lit with ever-burning candles hung low from the ceiling. A large golden mirror was hung on the wall above the bed. Large arched windows lined an entire wall, facing towards the front of the manor and providing Harry with a view of who was coming and going from the house. Looking out the window, in the fading light he saw the tiny driver below holding the door open for another man --- the real Lucius?!?---shutting it, and then driving away down the winding country road.  
  
Harry dragged his chest into the room, shut the door, and plopped down on the bed, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. 'Malfoy must have been really lonely to devise such an elaborate plan to get me here. But obviously it wasn't just because he was lonely because, then, why me? I'm sure Crabbe, Goyle, and whatever other Slytherins he's got as his beck and call would love to spend the summer at Malfoy Manor.' Harry thought, looking up at his reflection in the mirror on the wall. 'And also, why is he coming onto me so badly, and even more importantly, why do I like it???' Harry closed his eyes and his mind was filled with images of Draco on top of him, pulling his hair as he shoved his tongue down his throat.  
  
'Ok, ok, so I have to admit that I'm attracted to him. But how can that be? He's been my mortal enemy for so long, then in one moment he decides to offer the peace pipe and I can't wait to get into his pants? Something's not adding up.' Harry suddenly felt a twinge of hunger and instinctively thought of his black bag. He pulled himself up off the bed and rummaged thought his trunk until he found the bag. Thrusting his hand inside, that familiar yet strange sensation surrounded his hand, and he pulled out a large plate of fruit, exactly what he was thinking of! Harry grabbed an apple and took a humongous bite out of it, then a few more, until finally only the core was left, and he tossed it into the trash can. All of a sudden that familiar feeling crept over him, starting in his stomach and working its way down to his crotch, leaving Harry so horny and sex-starved that he immediately had to masturbate to alleviate the intense feelings, imagining Draco's hot mouth all over his body.  
  
Afterwards, a disturbing thought dawned on Harry. 'I always get horny right after I eat something out of that bag. Draco gave me that bag..Did Draco put some sort of lust enchantment on it to make me feel things for him that weren't really true?' Harry bolted upright, pants around his knees, with the realization that perhaps this strange attraction he had for Draco was artificial. Harry pulled his pants back on, and turned around as he heard the sound of someone opening his door.  
  
Harry gasped when he saw Draco's face; there was a large red welt on Draco's upper left cheekbone, which he was holding his hand over, embarrassed. Harry jumped up off the bed and ran over to Draco; deception or not, he was concerned.  
  
Harry gently moved Draco's hand away from his face and demanded, "Who did this to you?" Draco shrugged and walked past Harry and over to the mirror where he inspected the angry bruise. "It's nothing new," he responded, his voice devoid of all emotion, "I've learned to deal with it in my own way." As soon as he said that, Draco took out his wand and pointed it at his face, mumbling "Visaga repairo." The bruise turned from purple to red, to yellow, and then to the creamy pink of Draco's skin. He turned to Harry and tried to smile, "See? All better."  
  
"No its not. Draco, tell me who did this! How can you not care? It was your father wasn't it-," Harry asked heatedly, his hands balling into fists, but was interrupted by Draco.  
  
"Stop it! He's always treated me like this Potter, and there's nothing I can do about it. He'd throw me out if I fought back, and then what would I do?" Angry tears were starting to sprout from the corners of his eyes, and he tossed his head to make them stop. "Please, just leave it alone." Harry looked at Draco skeptically, but his voice softened, "Ok, Draco, if that's what you want."  
  
Draco looked relieved. "Anyway, good ole' Lucius is gone now, and we have the house to ourselves for a whole week!"  
  
"Does he know I'm here?" Harry asked. Draco laughed loudly. "Are you kidding? He'd kill you for sure, and probably kill me too for having feelings for the-Boy-who-Lived." He smiled ironically. "Wouldn't that just be peachy for Lucius? I can just hear him now prattling on about family honor and disgracing the name of Malfoy and such.." He shuttered.  
  
Harry thought this was a good a time as any to bring up what was bothering him. "Draco.," he began slowly, "I have to ask you something." Draco looked up, interested. "Well I know you gave me that black bag earlier in the summer.and well, I just wanted to ask you if you.um..did anything to it."  
  
Draco responded playfully, "Anything like what, Harry?"  
  
Blushing, Harry continued, "Well, every time I eat something out of it, I feel really...um..you know."  
  
Draco dismissed it with a wave of his hand, "Oh that." He smiled and lay back down on the bed, facing Harry. "So you've been feeling the effects of that itty bitty enchantment I put on the bag, huh?"  
  
Harry frowned, "So pretty much you don't mind me feeling things that aren't really real as long as you get what you want out of it."  
  
"What makes you think that they aren't real?" Draco responded.  
  
Harry paused. He hadn't thought of that-but how could they be? Draco continued, "The bag only intensifies feelings that are already there, Harry. It wouldn't have had an effect on you at all if you weren't already harboring a secret crush on me. The enchantment's effects are that it brings to the surface feelings that are already there, but hidden."  
  
Harry walked over to the bed and sat down, things finally starting to make sense. "Well I guess I can't be AS mad at you for that, but that's still pretty sneaky Draco." Draco pouted, "Well I knew that the great Harry Potter was much too proud to admit he had a crush on his sworn enemy and (gasp!) a Slytherin!" Harry still looked a little worried.  
  
"Listen, Harry, the bag was a test. If you responded, that meant that you had feelings for me too, and you would accept my offer to come stay with me for the summer. If not, then I knew that you didn't really care about me, and no harm would be done." Draco explained. "Its not like I could just send you an owl that said 'Harry, its me Draco, the person you hate more than anyone. I think you're cute, do you like me too?'"  
  
Harry finally broke a smile at this, imagining an owl bringing a letter from Draco with those words on it, signed with little hearts. It was just too funny, and he started laughing loudly. Draco cracked a smile too, and the two boys ended up rolling with laughter on the bed. After the moment had subsided, Draco rolled over and looked at Harry, gently tracing the zig-zag of his scar.  
  
"So, are we ok, then? You forgive my horrible deceitful nature?" Draco said jokingly. Harry sat up on his elbows so he was eye-level with Draco, and whispered roughly, "Yeah we're ok. But now that you know and I know that I like you, we don't need this anymore do we?" Harry gestured to the bag, lying on the floor.  
  
Draco grinned maliciously, "Well, I don't think there's such a thing as too horny, Harry, do you? Why don't we just keep it around for awhile.."  
  
Harry acted mock-shocked. "You little pervert! Somehow I always suspected, though."  
  
"Oh that'll just make things more fun, trust me.." And with that, Draco rolled on top of Harry, pinned Harry's hands above him to the bed, and kissed him so hard and so deep that Harry let out a little moan of pain and pleasure. 


End file.
